


Hair product

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Coming Out, Consent is key, First Kiss, M/M, Romance, coming to terms, denial?, uses quotes from the tv, yes denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:01:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24034729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: John uses product in his hair and is also conflicted.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 63





	Hair product

“With that level of personal grooming?” Sherlock asked rhetorically, his entire mind focused on the slide. Molly was still protesting his statement about her new boyfriend.

“Because he puts product in his hair? I put product in my hair!” John scoffed, making Sherlock look up and lock eyes with him. They stared before Sherlock broke it to observe his hair.

John’s hair did actually have product in it. He had never noticed, which was extremely unlike the detective. The doctor’s face was full of curiosity, unsure what Sherlock’s motive was. He took in the view of John’s lips, staring for longer than what could be considered still heterosexual. 

His eyes trailed down his chest, purposefully skipping over his hip area (to save himself) in the room was thick, the flatmates’ vision focused on the other and only on the other. John was too stubborn to look away and Sherlock doesn’t have any boundaries, so the only thing that made them break their stare was Molly’s awkward cough.

“Of course you do,” Sherlock said stoically, returning to his slide without another word. He was already way too deep into this shit. 

\-----

John and Rosie were back at 221B Baker Street. He was finally getting over his wife’s death, and now he was living back where it all started. 

They lived in harmony now, Sherlock going on his cases, occasionally with John, Rosie was growing up well and healthy, picking up John’s stubbornness and Sherlock’s observation skills. And John was in the clinic, helping the community. Everyone was winding down and becoming normal again (well as normal as it can get with Sherlock). 

Everything minus John’s sanity. 

Well, his sanity was okay, but he was stuck in his head. And by his head, John was conflicted about his sexuality again. 

He had been with men in the army, but he hadn’t ever been romantically involved with a man. Sure, he’s had feelings, well sexual feelings, about the men he served with. But those had been suppressed during his time in London. He had a city of women, he didn’t need to worry about his interest in men anymore. Or so he thought. 

\-----

Humming to himself, he flipped the pancakes sizzling in the pan. He had woke up a little earlier and decided Rosie deserved a special breakfast before her first day of first grade.

First day of first grade? Jesus Christ.

“Jesus Christ indeed, John.” Sherlock’s voice was heard behind him, making him turn. 

“Hmm?” He responded absentmindedly, returning back to his pancakes. 

“You said ‘First day of first grade? Jesus Christ’ and I agree. She’s growing up so fast.” Sherlock stated obviously, passing behind him. His hand lingered on John’s waist until he was past, making John tense and hold his breath. 

“It’s insane. Yet she won’t let the bee toy out of her sight,” John sighed, flipped the pancake onto a plate. Sherlock picked up the pancake and ate it. “Hey! Those are for Rosie! And use a plate, did you even learn bloody manners?” For a posh boy, he was quite ill-mannered. 

“She’s stubborn, reminds me of someone,” Sherlock rolled his eyes, his mouth turning up in a smile. “Although I can’t quite pinpoint his name. It’s on the tip of my tongue. Do you know a stubborn army doctor? About yea-tall?” He joked, making John swat his spatula at him. 

“Hey! Back off!” John laughed, shaking his head. 

“I truly don’t know! He loves thrill? Incredibly attractive…” Sherlock trailed off, not quite realizing what he was admitting to just now. John’s eyes narrowed, his neck flushing. 

“Nope, ah no idea. Please, do tell more.” The greying doctor mumbled, feeling Sherlock’s presence behind him. Sherlock reached above the doctor’s head to get something from the cabinet, leaning over him. John held his breath, refusing any urges, and flipping over the new pancake in the pan. 

“Daddy?” a young voice called out, making John jump and step back, forgetting how close they were. His back hit Sherlock’s chest, his face flushing, and Sherlock laughing. 

“Yes, dear? I made you pancakes for breakfast, first day of first grade!” John smiled when Rosie’s face lit up, grabbing the plate. “You would have another one, but Papa ate the other one.” Sherlock raised his hand in surrender, a mischievous glint in his eye. Rosie had coined the name Papa for Sherlock, which brought the trio even closer. 

“I didn’t know they were for you, I thought he was just being nice to me!” He defended himself.

“I’m always nice to you! Way too nice to you, in my opinion.” John joked, setting down a glass of orange juice for Rosie. She thanked him, and John smiled warmly down at her. She was his pride and joy. He checked the clock, he still had fifteen minutes before he had to leave for the clinic. This gave him free time.

He was tidying up the pans and bowls from breakfast, humming a tune he heard Sherlock playing during the previous week. Hopefully, Sherlock could take Rosie to school, he had to be at the clinic. He dried off the dishes, setting them in their respective places. “Sherlock? Can you take her to school? I have to be at the clinic.”

“Hm? Yeah, I don’t have any cases yet. And someone banned experiments, so I’m quite bored.” Sherlock responded, appearing behind him when he spun around. He could almost hear the gears spinning in his head. He stood there, waiting for whatever Sherlock was about to deduce. “You are going on a date.” He stated, taking into account their closeness.

“What are you on? No, I’m not going on a bloody date today. I’m going to work, you idiot.” 

“Your hair has product in it.” Sherlock threw out, resting his hand on the counter next to John. 

“Wow, what a deduction, Sherlock Holmes,” John said sarcastically, looking up at him. “Christ, you are close. Did they not teach you personal space and you posh school?”

“No need to call me Christ, Sherlock works just fine,” He mused, grinning at him. “The last time you wore product in your hair was before Mary.”

“I was just trying a new look, can’t I just change it up?” John said nervously, unsure of what he was getting at. Sherlock narrowed his eyes before his demeanor changed. 

“You ready to head out, Rosie?” He cheerfully asked. The detective ran his eyes down John’s body, then meeting his eyes. John stood there frozen, not moving until Rosie and Sherlock had left the flat. 

How the bloody hell did Sherlock guess he was going on a date from his hair? 

He sat down at the table, putting his head in his hands and groaning. He didn’t want to go on a date with anyone. Well, almost anyone. 

\-----

The sound of Sherlock playing violin was heard outside their flat. He smiled to himself, before pushing the door open. Rosie ran inside, he had been the one to pick her up because he got off work early. John took off his shoes, before sitting down on the couch and groaning. 

“Rough day?” Sherlock asked, repeating the same passage over and over again. John nodded, putting his head in his hands again. “You want to get take out?”

“Rosie doesn’t like takeout, Sherlock. I can make her something if you really want take out.” John pointed out, leaning back against the back of the sofa and putting his arms behind his head to stretch his back. 

“I’ll make something for us tonight instead.” 

“You are going to cook for once? Contribute to the household?” John questioned, a mall smile on his face. “Do you have a fever? Need medical attention.”

“Bloody idiot, no. I just wanted to do something nice for you! Is that such a crime?” Sherlock grinned, setting down his violin. However, his face told him he was hiding something. “On one condition. You’ll tell me why you have product in your hair. And not the bullshit trying a new look, because that’s a lie.”

John rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “You are a madman! I just found it in my stuff and wanted to try it again! Do you not like it? Not like the slicked-back look? I’ll change it if its that offending to you” 

“Everything has a deeper meaning, John. You can always switch sides.”

“Being cryptic isn’t going to help, just be straight with me.”

“You have to be straight with yourself first before I can be straight with you. That is, however, if you really want me to be straight with you.” Sherlock hinted, making the color drain from John’s face. 

“I’ll kill you. Piss off, mate,” John mumbled, shaking his head. “You want tea?” He asked, quickly changing the subject. He moved into the kitchen without waiting for his response.

“Tea sounds great. You know you can talk to me about that stuff? You’re my closest friend, I won’t judge you for that stuff.” Sherlock followed him in, leaning against a counter. Rosie had run upstairs when they first got home, giving them privacy. “It would be quite hypocritical of me, you know.” 

“Hypocritical?” John thought out loud, closing his eyes and he waited for the tea to boil. Hypocritical… Ohhhh.

“Married to my work my arse!” John accused his eyes flying open. “You’re gay!”

“I don’t focus on labels. Way too low for me,” Sherlock shrugged. “But yes, I suppose that’s what you could say.” 

“You never told me!” He laughed, leaning sideways against the counter to face Sherlock. 

“It never came up. And I thought you had figured it out honestly. Had higher expectations, if I’m being quite frank with you,” John rolled his eyes at that. “Do you want to know how I figured it out? How you were questioning yourself?” 

“Don’t say it like I’m a teenager in denial, geez.” 

“Still in denial regardless, adult in denial.” 

“Whatever, also I’m not in denial, for the record!” John pointed out, before turning and pouring the pair some tea. He handed Sherlock a mug, before leaning back against the counter next to him. “They don’t call me Three Content Watson for nothing.”

“Satisfying women all over the globe, I’m well aware! You don’t shut up about it.” He teased, making John laugh.

“And men, don’t discredit me! Don’t twist my words!” Sherlock eyed him, his mouth turning into a small smirk.

“You’ve slept with a man before? Learn new things every day.” Sherlock joked before being shoved by John’s elbow.

“Hey! Don’t say I can come to you about anything and then make fun of me you arse!” John shook his head, taking a drink of tea. They sat in silence, their arms pressed against each other. 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Obviously you weren’t in denial why you were in Afghanistan. What changed when you came back?” Sherlock asked softly, turning his head to face John. John sat there for a second, before sighing. 

“I needed to… adapt to civilian life so I just ignored it to fully switch over. It reminded me of being in the military at the time, so I just suppressed it,” He finally answers, looking up from the floor. “Don’t tell my therapist, she would be mad I bottled it up.” John finished with a small smile at that. 

The detectives eyed him, before cautiously laying his arm around John to comfort him. Just comfort him obviously. Nothing else. John tensed for a second, glancing at Sherlock. Their eyes met before he relaxed against him. 

Uncharted territory for the flatmates. Cool. Fun. 

John laid his head on the taller’s shoulder, closing his eyes. He brought the mug to his mouth to take a drink, before setting it on the counter behind them. Every move was unsure, he didn’t know what to expect or what to do. He doesn’t know anything.

“I’m not nearly as experienced with dating men as I am with shagging them,” John admitted, not moving. 

“That’s quite the declaration, John.” Sherlock chuckled, rubbing the doctor's shoulder lightly. 

“Shut up! I’m opening up for once, don’t take it for granted, you git.” He laughed, facing him and making eye contact. John’s eyes dropped to his lips, before looking back up. Sherlock nodded, somehow answering the unasked question. John caressed Sherlock’s jaw, before leaning close. 

A loud noise was heard from upstairs, before Rosie cried out and ruined the moment. 

“Bloody hell!” John snapped, covering his face in his hands. “Are you kidding me? Seriously? Right now?” He mumbled, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry, I’ll be right back.”

“You are fine, John. I’ll be here.” Sherlock reassured, refilling his tea. John nodded, heading upstairs.

\-----

Almost half an hour later, John came back down the stairs, running his hand through his hair. “She’s finally asleep, she bumped her head on the wall, cried for fifteen minutes I think.” He sighed, joining Sherlock on the couch. 

“Ah, hopefully she stays asleep. I don’t want any more disruptions.” He grinned, making John blush.

“Of course not, that would be unfortunate.” John followed along. He didn’t know where this was going, and it was kinda nerve-racking. Sherlock had brought him a new cup of tea and it was resting on the table. He nodded in thanks, taking a drink to buy himself some time. 

“You’re nervous.” The detective stated, leaning back against the sofa. John chuckled, shaking his head. 

“Can’t get a thing past you, huh?” John teased, setting his mug down and turning to face him. 

“That’s my whole thing, John. Do keep up,” Sherlock shot back, resting his arm behind John on the sofa. They hadn’t discussed anything between them, just acknowledging the potential of anything happening. John finally let himself check out Sherlock openingly. He took in everything about the man. “How are you so…” He trailed off, making John look back up.

“So what?” His eyes narrowed, but Sherlock just shrugged. 

“I don’t know.” He admitted, looking down at his palm to distract himself. 

“That’s new, you not knowing something.” 

“Shut up.” Sherlock met his gaze, before moving his hand behind John’s head and bringing his lips to his. Both of their eyes fluttered close, responding immediately. 

John pulled him against his body, his hands resting on his waistband and chest. Sherlock groaned, his arm wrapping around John’s lower back. John pulled him on top of him, resting himself horizatinal against the back of the sofa. He arched up, needing contact so bad. Sherlock rested between his legs, making John let out an embarrassing moan. 

His head fell back when he took a breath, panting and his chest heaving. Sherlock sucked a mark on John’s neck, before pushing himself up. 

“You okay? We don’t have to do anything more.” He assured, his hand propping himself up above John’s head. John nodded, leaning back up to kiss him again. Sherlock, against his better wishes, pulled away.

“Please kiss me again, I’ve wanted this for too long,” John begged, however if Sherlock ever told anyone he definitely did not and it was just a figment of his imagination. “I’m okay with whatever, I swear you aren’t taking advantage of me. Please, we can go as far as you’ll allow.” He wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s neck, pulling him back down. 

“I’m not shagging you the first time we kiss, Watson.” Sherlock refused, not wanting to take any advantages. 

“I swear you aren’t taking advantage of me at all, Sherlock, I’m serious.” 

“You just told me today you are bisexual and you have really just come back to terms with it not too long ago,” He pointed out, shaking his head. “It’s not that I don’t want to, because I clearly do,” He continued, shifting his hips slightly to prove that he was affected by this. “I just don’t think its the right time.” 

John sighed frustratedly, letting go of Sherlock. “Ah, you’re right, I just…” Sherlock waved his hand dismissively. 

“Of course I am, when am I wrong?” He grinned, sitting up. “Don’t worry about it, okay? We have time.” John nodded, covering his eyes with his hands. He was honestly embarrassed he let himself lose it like that. 

“I won’t tell anyone you begged me to kiss you again.” Sherlock continued, making John shoot a glare at him. 

“I’ll bloody kill you, alright? I’ll break every bone in your stupid, gorgeous body.” That made Sherlock laugh, smirking.

“No you won’t, you insufferable git.”

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this in like seven hours pls give feedback


End file.
